


Metaphor

by junebugrebellion



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Because I did, Drabble, One Shot, and now there's this, anyone else read that line and cry, backstory whooo, car crash, great times, great times guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junebugrebellion/pseuds/junebugrebellion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My boss. Right? Kind of? The guy that’s kind of my boss? He’s…like, a human car-crash. And I just have to watch it happen again and again. It’s depressing. He depresses me.” -Kate, Hawkeye #10</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metaphor

Clint Barton never quite got the whole  _literary elements_  thing from his various English classes. That might have had something to do with his lack of a high school diploma, but even when his fifth grade class was first learning, the terms never stuck with their definitions. An allusion was something about something that wasn't  _ **this**  something_, and a simile was something between two things, maybe? Hell, he couldn't remember algebra, and he ~~supposedly~~ used trigonometry every day in the work place. One thing he remembered, though, was metaphor, when something  _is_  something else.  

He hated metaphors, to be honest. Mostly because everyone- Kate, Cherry, random Eastern European gang members, oracles or whatever, apparently magic rocks, the entire fucking universe- seemed to pin the same metaphor on him. 

_Clint Barton: human car crash_.

Kate had once pointed it out as an analogy for his love life, and she was just a bit too specific. 

He used to think that it started when he was eight, when the first real car crash impacted his life. But, every time his father drank, every time he heard a bottle shatter, every time a belt was taken off, it was tires screeching and steel crumpling like aluminum foil. Of course, the actual car crash changed things- for better or worse, Clint never decided. 

The orphanage was the realization. Foster families were trying to slam on the breaks. Running away to the circus was the windshield shattering. The Swordsman was hitting his head off the steering wheel over and over and over. Barney leaving...

Barney leaving was the gas tank exploding, scattering his body over the expanse of the highway. 

He got used to living like any moment would be the death of him. 

Every crash, every way the universe fucked him in the ass was unique. Sometimes- most of the time- it was his fault, and he would swerve last-minute to try and save everyone by wrecking himself. He typically brought a handful of people down with him. It could be that he saw the point of impact too late, or that he lost focus for half a second, or that he could have saved the day had he been slightly faster or stronger or smarter or  _whatever_. 

Other times his hands were tied to the wheel. Maybe he was blindfolded, too, for the hell of it. The brake was always broken, though, and the gas always floored. So, he attempted to drive and save as many lives as possible. 

Sometimes he was flat-out helpless, hands behind his back, eyes wide open, screaming so loud he burst his own eardrums. 

Sometimes he was drunk. That never failed to sting.

But it always,  **always**  ended with a wrecked car and a bloodied Barton, crash after crash after crash. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has been sitting in the back of my head since reading Hawkeye #10, and hell, I'm posting the drabble. Thanks for reading!


End file.
